Infinitesimal: A Tale of Dragons and Daring Deeds

Chapter 1: Origins

Lou held her tongue. She didn't want to anger her father further, but the tax he was putting on the farmers was too unjust. He wasn't the lord, it's not like he could boss the townsfolk around. So she sat and frowned. Her shoulders hunched and she stared at her plate. Potatoes with butter and peas didn't seem all appealing now.

"If we increase the tax by 3 aurums, we can have more funding for defense," Christian Verrmien said.

There's nothing to defend from, Lou thought bitterly. She picked at her food, sitting straight, staring at the drab, grey, boring, old table. Her father, with his gruff face and dark brown hair, and grey eyes always judging, scowled.

Lou's mother, a pleasant woman by the name of Gwendalyn, nodded idly, her wavy blonde hair bobbing with her head. She eyed her husband with soft brown eyes.

"Yes, dear, but then produce prices go up."

Christian frowned, his face scrunched up in disgust. "Then there would be outrage."

"Indeed, husband. Maybe wait on the tax and help with a union reform."

Lou held her tongue. She would wait and have the two discuss what they wish. She would pin her anger on the members of the Legion later. Her trainer said that she could take down even the senior members now. She was, in fact, the best trainee.

"May I be excused?" Lou asked evenly. She had mastered her I-am-uncomfortable-but-I-have-to-act-professional voice when she was just a child. Her mother knew when Lou used it, but her father was absent minded in that regard.

Gwendalyn gave Lou a nervous look, but nodded. "Yes, Louanne. Give your plate to the handmaiden."

Lou bowed, and left the table. She handed off her plate quickly and jogged off before she could hear her father's quips. She tried hard not to imagine what they were, since she had heard them all before. Something about how vulgar Lou was and how she was never going to get a husband.

Lou huffed. She'd be just fine at getting a husband. They were all just too weak for her. She needed someone who offered a challenge.

The maiden rushed to her room. Once she was safely inside, she opened to the door to her personal armory. It's nothing much, just a cupboard she asked to put her breastplate in. On top of it lay a rag she used to wipe it. She grabbed it, the rough fabric soothing between her fingers. She wiped off a small fingerprint from her breastplate, and smiled.

Minutes after she opened the cupboard, she twirled around in her mirror, breastplate adorned. The chain mail below it clattered and tinked, but it's not like it bothered her anymore. She admired her skirt as well, the petticoat poking out of the bottom. The pink lace draped over the white silk of her skirt looked as elegant as Louanne felt in her armor. She may be a shieldmaiden, but that doesn't mean she can't still be a maiden. Her steel boots still felt a little heavy, so she restricted the running for a while.

She opened the door and rushed by the handmaidens and the butlers, the slave boy and his mother. She rushed as fast as her heavy feet would let her. She nodded at her mother as she left the house. Her boots left indent after indent on the dirt path. She'd have to wash them again, but it's not as if she minded much. She spent more time maintaining her armor than she did speaking with her parents.

Her feet hit the final section of pathway beyond the Legion's training camp. There, she found men clad in thick steel armor and plated helmets. Although, most of the men weren't wearing any. The fencing around the training grounds was worn, old, and rotted. All the years of excited knights-to-be hopping over it had really taken a toll on the old wood.